Sitter Suggestions
by Athena's Owl
Summary: Alysha Weller considered herself one of Kansas' best babysitters. A lesson in plumbing, Houdini's long lost great-grandchild, and a stray cat named Juan later... she's rather reconsidering that sentiment. A Tiny Tracy story. Now Complete!
1. Of Lava Lamps and Squirrels

_**A/n: So here we are back with another Tracy Tale. How time flies when you're having fun. So before we begin, a quick note about how time will fly during the course of this story. It is not completed. However I am churning out chapters like I never have before, so I feel comfortable posting ahead of completion. However to give myself a little wiggle room, I'll be posting once a week until the story is done. This'll give me plenty of time to get the next chapter finished and Betaed. Once all the chapters are done I'll start posting more than once a week. This shouldn't be too hard to do as the chapters are all relatively short. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot but ended up being too long. Special thanks to the wonderful spinkle22 for being my Beta. **_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the Thunderbirds. I do however claim Alysha for my own. Unfortunately. **_

* * *

**Sitter Suggestion #1: Get to know your kids! It makes them feel appreciated. **

Alysha Weller considered herself one of Kansas' best babysitters. She had always loved children, she took her first babysitting course when she was nine, she knew how to take care of infants and children, and knew all the first aid for both. She had been hired by almost twenty different families, and got paid $14 an hour. She loved the kids that were angels, and sorted out the kids that were horrors. In general she couldn't get enough of what she did. And right now? She was seriously considering quitting.

OoO

"But Daaaaad," Scott whined in the way that only an annoyed twelve year old child could, "I'm too old for a babysitter. And they're _annoying_."

"I've told you before, and we are not having this conversation again! The babysitter is for your brothers, who _are young_ enough for a babysitter. I trust you, Scott, but you can't handle all four of your brothers, by yourself, for four hours. Now she should be here in about five minutes, and I need to get my bag downstairs." Jeff gently moved his scowling son out of the way, and navigated his way around the bed to grab his small suitcase. He would only be gone for one night, so he hardly needed to pack heavy.

He emerged from his bedroom, to find Scott still standing in the hallway, his arms crossed, and still scowling. Jeff gave a sigh of exasperation as he moved down the hallway. Scott followed. Attempting to give the illusion of a compromise, Jeff said, "Look. If it annoys you that much, just stay out of her way for the evening. That way you won't get on her nerves and she won't get on yours. Now can you grab Alan? I want everyone downstairs when she gets here so I can lay down some rules."

He glanced at his watch and realized he was cutting it close. The babysitter was going to be here in under five minutes and his car in under ten. He'd have to make the rules quick.

He trotted down the stairs, and deposited his suitcase beside the door. Poking his head into the living room and finding his other three sons, he called them into the hall. There was mumbling and shuffling, but Jeff didn't stay long enough to watch them get to their feet. He was back out in the hallway and rifling through the chest of drawers trying to find a piece of paper and a pen to write out his mother's number. Finally finding a piece that wasn't covered in some sort of doodle, he scribbled the number out, examined it briefly to make sure it was legible, and then turned to his sons. They stood in line (well four of them stood, the fifth one was in Jeff's eldest's arms) and gazed at him expectantly.

"All right. Now your grandmother should be here by nine. The babysitter will be here until then and I expect everyone of you to behave, no exceptions." As Jeff said this he made a point to lock eyes with Scott. "No sugar, no tormenting, no trouble. And the house had better be standing when I get back."

"Yes Sir," four reluctant voices answered. He smiled, relaxing just slightly. While it was nice to finally have Tracy Industries on its feet and off to the races, it also meant a lot more last minute meetings. Usuallyhis mother stayed with them now, so the boys weren't too much of a problem; that woman could lay down rules like no one else could. However she had gone back out west for the week, to sort out paperwork and all sorts of legal baggage, and therefore she hadn't been able to make it up until nine o'clock this evening. Meaning a babysitter had to be hired.

He checked his watch again just as the doorbell rang. Right on time. Well that was a good sign at least. Jeff opened the door to be greeted by an incredibly short, incredibly blonde, smiling teenager.

"Mr. Tracy?" She asked, managing to sound bright and cheerful even when asking a question. Slightly disconcerted by her overall air of enthusiasm, Jeff stalled a moment before he answered.

"Yes. Alysha Weller, I presume?"

"That would be me!" She positively beamed at him. He briefly considered warning her not to smile so much, as it would probably tick Scott off, given the mood he was in. Then he decided better of it. Scott could just deal with a happy babysitter. At least she wasn't psychopathic.

"Fantastic. This is Scott," he introduced, gesturing towards the surly almost-teenager. "John," he said as he moved forward and extracted the book from his son's hands, in an effort to get the child to actually look at the girl. "Virgil," relatively normal, "Gordon," and wow, he really was not sure that look should ever have graced any six-year-old's face, "and the smallest one is Alan."

"Oh isn't he an absolute angel!" the excitable babysitter cooed.

"Quite. Now I've left the boys' grandmother's number on the table, and there's a pizza in the freezer for dinner. If there's an emergency my secretary's number is on the fridge and she'll get through to me as soon as she's able." Oh, shoot, there was the car. Hurrying now, he rushed through the next few instructions. "The two youngest should be in bed by seven, although if they're tired they can go earlier," he pointedly ignored the snort of derision. "Virgil is eight, John eight-thirty, and Scott can stay up long enough to see his grandmother in." Jeff had picked up his suitcase and was now moving down the path to the driveway where the car had pulled up. "No sugar or they'll never sleep, especially Gordon, and they should help clean up after dinner."

"No problem Mr. Tracy. They are all in good hands. Have a nice flight!" she said, shooing him down the path. Jeff opened the door to the car and shoved his suitcase to the opposite side across the seats. One leg in the car he sent a last look back towards the house. Everyone was crowded around the door, Alan now in the babysitter's arms. The older boys gave a few pleasant waves, and Jeff couldn't help but notice the death glare the poor girl was getting from his eldest son. As he finally sat in the car and closed the door, he couldn't help the feeling that maybe he should have just postponed the meeting twenty-four hours. Looking through the window as the car pulled out of the driveway, the feeling only intensified as the door to the house shut with all the ominous finality of a malevolent police officer slamming the door to a perpetual prison.

OoO

Alysha closed the door, making sure she sent a cheerful wave to Mr. Tracy as he departed. Alan, the adorable little angel, was playing with her hair. She turned to the other four boys, prepared for the night that would surely rocket her into babysitter history. Her smile fell a little at the glare she was receiving from Scott. However no unhappy child would remain unhappy on her watch, so she gestured towards the reception room. The best way to get a good relationship started between babysitter and child was to make them feel valued. It was time to ask some questions.

"How about we go into the reception room and make ourselves comfortable? I want to get to know you all better!" She beamed at them all, then skillfully leaned down and picked her duffel bag up off the floor, while keeping the darling sweet blonde in her arms safe. She led the way into the room and sat on one of the couches, depositing her bag at her feet, and settling the precious sweetheart on her lap. The boys followed her in, and sat one by one either on the other couch that was perpendicular to her own, or the floor.

"Alright, now why don't we go around in a circle and we'll each say something about ourselves. I'll start to give you some ideas. I'm Alysha Weller and I've been babysitting for two years. My favorite subject in school is English, and I play the flute. Now John, what about you?"

The blonde looked startled at being asked first. "Oh...um. Can we go the other way?" Alysha smiled endearingly at him. He was obviously incredibly shy. "I don't see why. You don't have to say much, just give me something to go on!" she gently prodded.

"Ah..."

"Here. I saw you were reading when I arrived. I'm guessing that means you like to read?"

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. Seeing he wasn't going to be any more forthcoming, Alysha continued to prod.

"So what was it you were reading?"

"Far From the Madding Crowd," he supplied. Alysha just stared.

"Oh. Wow. I mean that's ...impressive," she finally managed to stutter out. Quickly moving on, especially because she didn't want to embarrass the poor kid who was rapidly turning crimson, she questioned Virgil, the one on the floor.

"And what about you, Virgil?"

"I'm eight, I like art, and I play the piano." The brown haired child rattled off quickly, pointedly looking at his younger brother.

"Great! Gordon?"

"I'm six and I like to swim," the short child stated smugly.

"Oh, really?" Alysha said, doing her best 'That's Amazing!' voice. "What else do you like?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nope."

"You have to like something else besides swimming."

Gordon's face quickly began turning a shade to match his hair and Alysha frantically backpedaled. "Or not! Swimming is a wonderful sport. I love swimming. Scott! What about you?" she asked desperately.

The eldest boy was perched on the arm of the couch, and was glaring at her coolly, making Alysha wonder what she had already managed to do wrong. "I am in love with a lava lamp, I believe in fairies, and I hunt down squirrels to make into mid morning meals in my spare time," he supplied dryly.

"Scott! There's no need to be so cynical. And while I really don't care as to whether you believe in fairies or not, I know the other two not to be true," she chided. In response, Scott just raised his eyebrows.

"Well you'll be happy to know I don't believe in fairies either then."

"Can you please give me something to work with?"

Scott paused, as if thinking hard about his answer. Alysha held her breath, wondering if she dared hope that what he said would be genuine.

"I hate babysitters."

Oh. Oh dear.

* * *

_**So there you go! R&R please. I'll see you a week on Sunday! **_


	2. Z is for Zombify

**__****A/n: And so we have lived through another week. And I have got my First Responder training! *celebrates* That was a lot of hard work but it sure was worth it. Spinky what would I do without you? I hope that sentence makes sense now! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. And without further ado here is chapter two...**

* * *

**Sitter Suggestion #5: Games can be fun and educational! Top up the brains of your tiny toddlers today!**

"Well I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully I can change your mind! Now how about a game?" she said, beaming around at them all. When no one answered, she set the adorable little lamb that was currently in her lap on the couch beside her, winced slightly when he pulled her hair, and reached down to unzip her bag. Rifling around in it for a few moments,she muttered to herself when she realized the object she was looking for was at the bottom of the bag. Finally getting a hold of the edge of the box, she tugged it out and showed it to them.

"Scrabble?" Virgil questioned incredulously.

"You can't be serious," Scott added, looking at her as if she was insane. Now Alysha did not like to be looked at as if she was insane, because she most certainly wasn't. However, she reminded herself, she had to keep her cool and treat Scott like an equal. Children responded to that.

"Of course I am! It's fun and educational. Scott, how about you and I agree to go easy on the younger ones?" she proposed. There, she was including the two of them in one group. He should be happy with that.

"Sounds good," was his short reply but... should he really look that happy though? Ignoring the tiny flicker of doubt that had settled itself in her stomach, she began to set the game up on the floor. As she did so she said, "Now only four players can play at a time, so Virgil and Gordon why don't you two play as a team to make things more even?" The two nodded, Gordon excitedly, Virgil resignedly. When the board was set up, Alysha picked the charming cherub up from the couch, and settled him once more in her lap so as to keep an eye on him and prevent him from eating the pieces.

Twenty minutes later and John had won with a 76 point 'zombify'. Alysha really couldn't bother to look at the final score. John had blown everyone out of the water, using high point letter after high point letter and using all seven letters a total of six times. No ten year old should have a vocabulary that large, she decided. But the game that was supposed to have lasted her until dinner time had ended half an hour early.

"How about we play another round?" she suggested lamely. Ignoring the disbelieving looks she was receiving she gently moved the delightful angel from her lap to the floor beside her, first making sure all the pieces were out of the way. The last thing she needed was for the youngest child in the family to choke on the winning z from zombify. Diligently she mixed the letters up in the lid of the box and was just handing them out to the incredibly morose looking boys when she noticed that one child, the youngest child to be exact, was no longer in the vicinity. Ignoring the brief burst of panic, she quickly looked around the room from her sitting position, then stood up when the toddler wasn't immediately visible.

"Jumping Jupiter," she 'swore', when he also wasn't immediately visible behind any of the couches. "Did any of you see where your brother went?"

"We generally don't. He spontaneously turns invisible so it's kinda hard to keep track of him," John said seriously. Alysha glared at him and then hurried out of the room, hoping, praying, that the dear tiny treasure had only managed to get to the hallway.

OoO

"Hide it, hide it, _hide it_!" Virgil said as soon as she left the room. All four boys immediately set about chucking the letters into the box and folding up the board. While they were doing this, Scott said to John,

"Nice one, John. I didn't know you could be that sarcastic."

"Hmm?"

"Invisible? Seriously dude, that was awesome."

"Don't call me dude," John said mildly, securing the lid over the top of the box and scanning the room for a place Alysha wouldn't look, "and I can be sarcastic when I want to be. Especially if I don't like someone."

Gordon scampered over and stole the box, shoving it down the back of the couch, and placing the throw blanket over the back of it, returning it to the position he had obviously moved it from seconds before. "So what's your issue with her?" Scott questioned as everyone quickly settled themselves back on the floor, each with the intention of looking as if absolutely nothing had happened.

"She's too condescending. And she gives a bad name to blonds. I don't think she used more than four letters in a word once. _And_ did you hear what she was calling Alan? The poor kid's going to be scarred for life."

Scott just grinned. "So I have an ally then?"

John, looking the most like a delinquent he probably ever would, smiled back evilly and stuck his hand out. They shook on it.

"To war?"

"To war."

OoO

When Alysha finally returned to the living room, roughly ten minutes later, the lovable honey-bunch was safely in her arms (she had found him doing his best, and mostly succeeding, to climb the shelves in the pantry), and the boys had already dispersed. The game board was also gone meaning they must have packed it up and returned it to her bag. Checking her watch she figured there really wasn't enough time between now and when she had to start preparing dinner for another game anyways.

"Might as well just let them do what they want for ten minutes," she said to the cute angelic pet, who simply giggled and began pulling her hair again. Deciding she shouldn't completely leave the boys to their own devices, she had babysat enough children to know when that might not be a wise idea, she decided to at least locate the other four. Setting the lovely cuddle-bunny on the ground and grabbing his hand she began to walk down the hallway; he, apparently happy enough walking beside her, made a game of jumping every third or fourth step. Passing by the kitchen first she poked her head in. There were no boys to be found within it, although she did think she saw a shock of blond hair dart past the window outside. However a second later it was gone, leaving her to wonder whether she had seen it at all.

Then, gently, the sound of music began drifting down the hallway. Alysha made her way towards the sounds, the cuddly darling hopping all the way. Arriving at the main lounge area she again peered round the door frame. She saw Virgil sitting at the piano, running his fingers up and down the keys, incredibly gracefully for an eight year old. Nobody else seemed to be in the room although for the second time in the last few minutes she thought she saw a flash go by the window outside, this time a dark streak. Deciding it was better to ignore the odd goings on and simply listen to the beautiful playing she entered the room.

Quietly she sat down hoping not to disturb him. The huggable sweetie-cakes had other ideas though, and walked up to stand next to his brother. Wondering what the small child would do, and wondering if she should stop him from possibly disturbing his brother she was incredibly surprised when, instead of whacking the keys at the top of the keyboard he just stood there. He was looking up at his brother's hands flying across the keys, with the wonder only a child could manage, his head barely level with the base of the keyboard. It was one of those adorable moments that left a fuzzy feeling settling in Alysha's chest.

A few minutes later the piece came to a soft close and she smiled.

"That was amazing Virgil," she said as he swiveled around on the stool, and then lifted his little brother to sit next to him.

"Thanks. I've got a competition in a few weeks so the piece has to be perfect."

Alysha restrained herself from giving the 'There's no such thing as perfection – except maybe the tiny sweetheart sitting beside you' rant. Instead she asked, "Do you know where your other brothers are?"

Oddly enough he glanced at the window where she thought she had seen the streak of hair earlier.

OoO

"Did you get to him in time?" John asked from where he was finishing tying a knot to the tap on the garden hose.

"Just," Scott panted. "I told him to keep her occupied for as long as possible. I was just leaving the window when she came in. Is it ready?"

"Should be. I managed to manually connect all three of them together so it'll come from different directions."

"Awesome. I'll go upstairs and you throw the fishing line to me okay?"

John looked horrified. "What? But I can't throw for my life!"

"Well you'd already be dead if you had to catch for it," Scott snarked before taking off again in the direction of the front door. Back doors aren't always good for sneaking you know, especially as theirs led right past the lounge. At the last moment John called after his older brother.

"Have you seen Gordon?"

"Nope. But he's got enough sense not to do anything too stupid," Scott called back, before disappearing through the gate that led to the driveway.

"'Too' being the operative word," John mumbled to himself.

* * *

**R&R please! Until next time...**


	3. Jaws 6: Amphibians Attack

_**A/N: Sunday again. Courses started this week so time really did fly. I'm still well ahead with the chapters but I'm really glad that I am. I didn't have any time to write this week. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I did my best to keep an eye out for the space monster, since it caused me so much trouble last week. Spinkle, as usual, has done her very best with my mess. I hope you all enjoy this next installment! **_

* * *

**Sitter Suggestion #22: You are in control! Always make sure your kids acknowledge that fact. **

"BOYS!" Alysha yelled from where she was standing inside the kitchen. She already had two of them seated around the table, but had yet to find the other three. She had briefly looked through all the rooms in the house and had had no success. Deciding the best way to deal with boys was to act like one she bellowed out the word, hoping they'd hear, then return from whatever it was they were doing. To her relief they did, to the sound of the back door slamming. John appeared first, obviously having come from somewhere else inside the house, then Scott, and then Gordon. Alysha froze.

"Gordon," she said hesitantly, "what exactly are you holding?"

Four pairs of eyes turned to the open door where the copper haired child stood. One pair of eyes didn't move from it. Holding the thing up Gordon said, "Toad!"

Alysha screamed as it croaked, and jumped backwards. Breathing erratically, a hand to her chest, she did not take her eyes off of the slimy thing in the kid's hands.

"Where...where did it come from?" she gasped out.

Gordon frowned. "Backyard. Duh."

Thankful that she could, albeit briefly, revert back to something she knew, she gently reprimanded him. "Don't say duh. It's rude."

Keeping her eyes on the toad had its disadvantages because at that moment she failed to notice the eye roll from Scott.

Continuing, and trying to do this the easiest way possible she said, "Well you shouldn't bring animals in the house, so you need to take it back outside. It'll be happier out there anyways, I'm sure."

He did exactly what she had hoped he wouldn't, and shook his head.

"No. Jaws doesn't want to go back outside."

"Jaws?" She asked weakly. Great, just great. A slimy, burping, bug-eyed toad with _teeth_.

"Take it back outside, Gordon."

"No."

"Gordon, take it back _outside_."

"No."

Briefly letting her eyes leave...the thing... she looked to the other boys for help. Virgil looked mildly disgusted, John's face was neutral, and Scott just looked highly amused. Snapping her eyes back to Gordon and his new-found pet she gave a startled squeak when she realized he had moved closer, still holding the toad out before him like a clove of garlic to a vampire.

"No Gordon, stop! Don't bring that thing any further into the house. It's unclean!"

"Unhygienic would really be a better word," John said, contributing to the action for the first time; rather unhelpfully.

"Jaws isn't dirty!"

"Oh yes he is! Now take it, _him_, back outside!"

"Nuh-uh," Gordon said vehemently, shaking his head back and forth.

Desperately she turned to Scott. "Can't you get him to take it back outside?"

He simply raised an amused eyebrow. "But wouldn't that be undermining your authority?"

Alysha flushed. "Normally I'd just do it myself, but I'm not... I don't really... I mean I'm..." she stammered. Finally she managed to gasp out, "I really don't like animals." Scott's response was somewhat unsympathetic.

"Not my problem. You're the babysitter."

Mouth gaping, she just stared at him. How rude! But right now she had another issue to deal with. Turning back to the problem at hand she let out a small scream as she realized the toad had moved yet further into the room. Backpedaling wildly, she knocked into the counter and realized she couldn't retreat any further. Oh man; she was going to have to do this herself.

"Gordon, please take it back outside."

Slowly, and glaring at her from under his lowered eyebrows, he shook his head.

She took a deep breath and shakily moved away from the counter and towards Gordon. "Gordon, I'm giving you one last chance. Take it back outside _now_." Again he just shook his head, still looking at her as if he was daring her to go through with it.

Every step seemed like a mile as she walked closer to the thing. Gordon, thankfully, didn't bolt or let it loose. Arriving in front of him she held her hands out and resisted shutting her eyes. Suddenly the kid seemed to cave, or he had been planning this the whole time, and dumped the thing in her hands. She grasped it, making sure it wasn't going to escape, and walked quickly to the back door, all the while muttering, "Ew, ew, ew, I'm touching it, I'm touching it, I'm touching it, ewwwwwww!"

Scott helpfully beat her to the door and opened it for her. He was grinning like a maniac.

As soon as she arrived at the threshold, possibly sooner, she tossed _Jaws_ out of the house. She grabbed the door from Scott, slammed it shut, and then started wringing her hands.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew," she kept repeating to herself, shuddering all the while.

"You know," Scott commented cheerfully, and Alysha glared at him. "You've got a pretty good underhand throw."

She growled.

OoO

Striding back into the kitchen, doing her best to wipe the traumatic experience from her mind, Alysha said, "Right. Dinner time. I want everyone to pitch in a hand." So she was a bit sharper than before. Just a little time to calm down; that was all she needed.

"Though all meat is naturally rich in necessary nutrients, eating your own flesh is actually detrimental to your health. The body is a closed circuit, and-"

"That's not what I meant," Alysha quickly interrupted John. The last thing she needed right now after her experience with the toad was a lecture on the negatives of self-cannibalism.

"Now your father mentioned pizza. I love pizza. Pizza for dinner," she rambled, blocking out the blond child who was still talking.

"And there's also the medical ramifications of ingesting close blood relatives, although the brain is usually worse than plain flesh,"

"John, please stop. You're going to make your younger brother's lose their appetites. Not to mention mine." Alysha said in a strained tone, while she rifled through the freezer looking for the box.

"I'm actually finding it kinda interesting," she heard Virgil say.

"Me too," Gordon added.

Oh, that was just disgusting. Finding the box hidden under several bags of frozen vegetables she yanked it out, and twirled to face the boys.

"We are having pizza for dinner, and we are not experimenting in cannibalism. Now I want everyone to _help_." John had finally given up on his lecture. Seriously, no child should have a vocabulary that large. The room was silent for a few moments while everyone looked at each other, waiting for someone else to make the first move. After a few seconds Virgil said,

"I don't like pizza."

Slamming the freezer door closed, she walked over to the counter and set the box on top of it. Taking a deep breath she turned to Virgil. "You must be able to handle it or your father would have organized something else for dinner, I'm sure."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Was everyone except the huggable sweet-cakes difficult in this family? Deciding ignoring him was probably the best approach she scanned the back of the box, then set the oven.

"Alright, Virgil, I want you to get me a baking sheet to put the pizza on. Scott and Gordon, you can set the table. And... wait a minute, Alan's not having the pizza. Did your father tell you what to give him? 'Cause I don't think he mentioned it to me."

The four older boys looked at each other and just shrugged. "Didn't say anything," Scott supplied.

Alysha sighed. "Well what does he usually have?"

"Dunno. Grandma sometimes makes mac and cheese." John this time.

"That'll do just fine. Okay John, how do you feel about cooking?"

"He's the only one that can," Scott said before John could answer. Wondering what he meant, she decided not to ask for the sake of her own sanity. "Alright. So John can you go get a box of mac and cheese and I'll put the pizza out on the pan."

John nodded and scooted around his brothers to the other side of the kitchen where he opened the door to the pantry and darted inside. Virgil appeared at her side and shoved the baking sheet into her hands.

"I still don't like pizza."

Resisting the strong urge to say 'I don't care', Alysha instead smiled sympathetically at him. "I know. I'm sorry, but I can't really do anything else. I do appreciate your help though." Virgil continued scowling.

"Alan gets macaroni. How come I can't have that?"

Depositing the pizza onto the sheet, she said, "Because he's not old enough for pizza and you are." She checked the temperature and noted it wasn't warm enough yet. "Besides," she turned to him, "do you really want the same food as your baby brother?"

If anything Virgil's scowl only deepened and he stalked off in a huff to sit in a chair at the table. Scott and Gordon continued to place plates and cups around him. By now John had returned with the box of pasta and was politely holding it out to her. She honestly couldn't make heads or tails of this kid. One moment he was being a wordy smart-alack, the next the shy, polite innocent bystander to the chaos that was his brothers. Then she saw the box.

Gazing at it hesitantly, eyes wide as saucers, she asked, "Um, is this what your Grandmother makes?"

"No. Hers is usually homemade and this was the only box we had."

Helpful. Really helpful.

Nodding, she placed the box on the counter top, still sending it surreptitious glances, before turning to the room at large.

"Virgil, I know you're upset but I'd still like you to help. Please?" she asked kindly. Virgil gave her one of the dirtiest looks she had seen in a long time but got to his feet regardless. Somehow she had the distinct impression that it was a fear of his father's wrath rather than her polite plea that got him to his feet. Whatever works.

"Fantastic. Can you get me a pot then?"

"You'll have to move."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The pots. They're in the drawer behind you. You'll have to move."

"Oh. Alright then."

She sidestepped grabbing the pan on her way. As she did the oven let off a soft beep indicating it was up to the required heat. Searching the room for John she was slightly bemused when she couldn't see him. He was there only a few seconds ago after all. She turned and then jumped violently when she found him standing right beside her. Cocking his head sideways, he waved the pizza box at her.

"Checking the instructions."

Her startled jump had been so violent that the pizza had flown vertically upwards, and she was thankful it had simply landed back on the pan. Somewhat awkwardly, she nodded. "So what do we put it in for?"

"Ten minutes."

She opened the door to the oven, ignoring the loud crash that indicated the pot had just bet set none too gently upon the counter top, and slid the pan onto the middle rack. Straightening up, she closed the door and entered the time into the interface. It started flashing between the time and the timer. Satisfied that that was fine on its own, she asked John to tell her how much water they needed in the pot. He grabbed the box- Alysha averted her eyes- and told her. Filling the pot with the water she set it on the stove top and dialed the heat on the element up to 'high'.

Wondering what she was supposed to do with the other four boys: there was really only room for one in the cooking, she decided to simply ask.

"Alright. I think that's all we'll need for now. What do you boys want to do while John and I cook the pasta and pizza?"

The three boys shared a look, and bolted.

Once more bemused, she turned her attention back to the elder blond in the kitchen. The younger had acquired a spoon and was amusing himself sawing at the sides of the highchair with it, and _wasn't that just _**adorable**!

"I hope you don't mind staying," she said apologetically.

"Nope. I'm sure I can make up for whatever I'm missing later."

It was probably a bad omen that simple statement sounded distinctly ominous.

* * *

_**R&R my pretties! Now off to master my formula units for Chem. O_o **_


	4. Underground, Overground Wandering Free

_**Well courses are now in full throttle, not to mention I'm officially on-call. **_**_I missed my lunch on Tuesday to deal with someone who got hit in the head with a rock. Then yesterday I was helping paint lockers at an elementary school down the East-side. The hallway wasn't exactly well-ventilated so I'm still a bit high off the paint fumes. Enamel's pack a nasty punch. _**

**_Spinkle fixed this right up, as per usual, so you can all thank her for turning this from drivel into fiction.  
Enjoy!_**

**_

* * *

_Sitter Suggestion #39: Dinner time is a dangerous time. No matter the situation, stay in control! **

"Is it supposed to be that color?"

"That _is_ the color it was on the box."

"I didn't think it would actually be that... vivid."

"Is it actually edible?"

"Of course it is." Alysha tried to make it sound as if she were, truthfully, sure of this fact. John still looked dubious. However at that moment the timer went off, preventing him from arguing further.

"Can you put some of that in Alan's bowl? I'll get the pizza." She opened the cupboard beside the sink and pulled out a plain dish towel, then carefully cracked the door open and peered inside. The pizza looked ready so she grabbed the pan with her towel covered hand and quickly dropped it on the counter.

"BOYS!" she yelled for the second time in less than an hour. There was the sound of the backdoor opening once again, before the three boys appeared in the kitchen. Gordon looked rather put out and she had a nasty feeling she knew what – or who, if it was Gordon she was asking – they had been looking for.

"Alright. Wash your hands and let's eat!"

They filed through the sink and soon enough they were all seated around the table, a plate with a piece of pizza each, and the disconcerting pasta in front the golden-haired sweetheart. They began to eat and Alysha smiled. For the first time this evening things seemed to be going smoothly. Virgil had conveniently forgotten his dislike of pizza and was munching heartily. Gordon was, well _funneling,_ the pizza down his throat and Scott and John were holding a civil argument.

Maybe the rest of this night wouldn't be so bad.

Less than ten minutes later she was regretting ever having thought such a thing.

It had started with the 'civil argument' becoming not so civil. Gradually Vigil had gotten pulled into the debate as well, and to a lesser extent Gordon. The volume level continued to grow until she lost count of how many decibels they had moved through. No matter how she tried to diffuse it, the argument just kept growing, the boys decidedly ignoring her attempts.

It was then the first shot was fired. A piece of pepperoni was picked off of the pizza and John had the good sense to duck. It hit the bull's eye, right in the middle of Virgil's forehead and all hell broke loose. The baby treasure was having an absolute ball, and promptly started using his spoon as a firing mechanism. Gordon had made a preemptive strike, and had scraped all the tomato sauce onto the side of his plate living him with ample, easily accessible ammunition. John had disappeared completely.

"Boys! Come on, this is hardly – Eek!" Her attempt at peacemaking was awarded with a slice of pizza aimed directly at her head. She ducked, and then pushed her chair out behind her, crawling beneath the table with the intent of using it as a temporary shelter. To her surprise John was sitting, cross-legged, with a book in hand beneath the table as well. She barely had time to wonder where the book had come from before he said,

"Guess they didn't listen?" without looking up.

"No!" she answered, exasperated. "They don't do this when your Dad is home, do they?"

"'Course not."

There was a long empty pause between them. Well, it really wasn't _empty_, per se. The sound of the pizza war going on overhead filled the would-be silence.

"Y'know they'll keep going if you don't stop it."

Alysha sighed. "I know." She took a deep breath, scooting backwards so she could stand up without having to turn around. The back of her head was probably too tempting a target. John briefly raised his eyes and gave her a small mock salute, before returning to his book.

Ignoring the funeral dirge that had begun to play in her head, she stood up. Almost as soon as she was up, she felt something slimy impact the side of her head. Ignoring this she yelled,

"BOYS!" Unfortunately, the sound of whistling tomato sauce bullets drowned her attempt. Then everything turned orange as a glob of pasta hit her. Wiping the mess out of her eyes- she knew it wasn't a natural color, she just _knew_ it- she was about to make another attempt when a full slice of pizza came hurtling towards her. She ducked beneath the table again.

"How's it going?" John asked disinterestedly.

"Did you guys actually eat _any_ of it?"

He simply shrugged.

"Ugh!" She gave an exasperated growl. Standing back up again she made a desperate dive for the counter. Ignoring the impacts of food against her body, she grabbed the now-empty pot in one hand, the baking pan in the other and slammed them together as hard as she could. The resulting bang was enough to get the three fighting kids to stop and look at her.

"I am calling a cease fire. Nobody touch anything," she ground out.

The boys remained in a frozen tableau.

"Good," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. Allowing her gaze to drift over the four boys – John had now emerged, book nowhere in sight – she realized that for the most part they were still relatively clean. Most of the pizza seemed to have ended up on her, and a fair bit of Alan's dinner too. Wait a minute... four boys....

"Oh, hell!"

Alysha dashed to the pantry and yanked the door open, peering inside. No Alan. She whirled around and stared at the highchair where the toddler had previously been sitting. Only now the apron part of it was unlocked and pushed out. An innocent spoon was lying on the floor beneath it.

She didn't bother to ask any of the boys if they had seen their brother or not. She was pretty sure the answer wouldn't be of any use to her.

O_o

"Is he outside?"

"Check the window! Quick!"

"Yes! He's smack dab in the middle!"

"In the middle of what?"

"Do you wanna pull it or shall I?"

"I rather think you should. It was your idea after all."

"What idea?"

But John was already running for the stairs. Scott smirked.

"Trust me, you two. You'll want to see this."

"See _what_?"

O_o

"Alan, baby? Are you out here?"

In answer to her pleading question Alysha heard a giggle from around the corner. Relieved, and at the same time somewhat stressed because this really shouldn't have happened in the first place, she made her way towards the sound; leaving a trail of pepperoni in her wake.

The giggling child was sitting in the middle of the garden at the side of the house, happily ripping up chunks of grass.

"Oh, thank god. You can't do that to me, okay, baby-cakes?" Unwittingly she made her way forwards. This was the second time that evening that the lovable cuddlebunny had managed to escape and seemingly disappear into thin air. Resolving herself to keep a keener eye on him, she bent to pick him up.

This act was prevented however, by the sudden eruption of water from the hedges.

O_o

"Trajectory is spot on! Nice going John!" Scott whistled appreciatively as they watched Alysha stagger around the yard trying to find the source of the water to turn it off. Alan was well outside the aim of the jets, and was apparently quite enjoying himself watching the spectacle. Virgil snorted as the babysitter took a face-plant into the ground after slipping on a patch of wet grass.

"I can't see anything!" Gordon groused

Scott ignored him, knowing he could see just fine. He himself had a perfect view, Virgil was on the tips of his toes and was occasionally hopping up and down, using the counter as leverage, and Gordon had dragged a chair in between the two of them and was standing on top of it.

Alysha finally found her way to the tap, now bearing an uncanny resemblance to a drowned rat, and turned the water off. Immediately the attack stopped.

"Already?"Gordon whined.

Scott grinned once more.

"Hardly."

O_o

She took in a deep breath as the water finally stopped. Raising her hands to her eyes, she flicked away the water so that she could actually see. The sprinklers must have malfunctioned or something. She looked around briefly, relieved when she saw that Alan hadn't moved. Grabbing her hair into a pony tail she did her best to squeeze the water out if it before making her way over to Alan again. She was right in the middle of the garden when the water went off again. Taken by surprise, she slipped, _again_. She shut her eyes against the force of the water, and tried to remember which direction the tap was in. Growling in frustration, she made her way over to where she thought the tap was on her hands and knees, still managing to slip several times along the way.

She practically landed on top of the stupid thing, and yanked it to the left. The water cut off. Breathing heavily she waited, wanting to see if the water would come on again. When a few minutes had elapsed and nothing happened she stood up and began to slowly make her way towards Alan for the third time, glancing edgily at the hedges every few seconds. She was almost at him when she felt a spurt of cold against her back followed by two more on either side. Screaming in frustration, her eyes forced closed again, she stumbled blindly for the tap.

And fell over. Again.

This time she didn't bother getting up. She simply lay on the grass and threw her arms over her face.

"Why me?" she mumbled into her hands. Alan laughed.

* * *

_**There we go! Hope you all enjoyed it and I'll be back next week!**_


	5. Psychology for Dummies

_**Okay my life can officially be categorized under: chaos. Work has punched up another notch and I'm more behind then ever thanks to the lovely headaches that were plaguing me all of Thursday and Friday. This chapter is a bit shorter (sorry!) and unfortunately I won't be able to make up for it next week. I probably will NOT be posting because, frankly, I won't have a computer. So we're looking at the eleventh for our next installment. **_

_**Thanks to all those who reviewed, and thanks to Spinkle22!**_

_**

* * *

**_**Sitter Suggestion #44: If a child comes to you, always listen. A pair of ears to listen is more valuable to them than any gift! **

A very wet, very frazzled Alysha stumbled into the kitchen. She practically shoved Alan into Scott's arms.

"Put him in the play pen."

It was a mark of just how much Scott had enjoyed himself that he didn't argue, but instead cheerfully took his brother and exited the kitchen. John was stacking the plates at the side of the sink.

"Don't worry about it. Just...just go," she said tiredly.

He made a bee-line for the door. As Alysha surveyed the room she had to resist the urge to burst into hysterical tears. Mr. Tracy was going to kill her! There was tomato sauce on the tiles, the floor looked as if someone with narcotics issues had picked the color, and there was a massive stack of splattered dishes beside the sink. They had no doubt been used as shields.

"You know there is a bright side to all of this."

She turned to John and gave him a mournful look.

"At least you're not covered in tomato paste anymore." He disappeared out the door.

That statement wasn't entirely true. Her shirt still had patches of red on it, and the pasta seemed to have acted as some sort of cementing agent, meaning several large chunks of it were still in her hair along with a few unfortunate pieces of pepperoni. She made her way slowly to the sink, clutching the counter to prevent herself from falling due to the sticky mess on the ground and her own growing puddle of water.

She found a sponge and morosely set to work.

OoO

Miraculously she was finished in under half and hour. Checking the time on the oven, she saw it was already 6:55. Well, already really wasn't such an accurate word. The time had most certainly _not_ flown. Currently she was rather regretting leaving the boys on their own for such a long time. Who knows what they could have gotten up to? Not wanting to give them any more opportunities to cause trouble than she already had, she made for the living room. Seven was also Gordon and Alan's bedtime.

_Two down, three to go..._

She peered into the living room, somewhat confused when only Gordon and Alan were to be found. She could hear Virgil back at the piano down the hall, and as nice as it had been earlier it was now doing nothing for her headache. There was some odd cartoon on the TV that the two boys seemed to be watching. She knocked on the door frame.

"Bed time boys."

Gordon ignored her. Rolling her eyes-she was so not in the mood for this right now- she strode over, grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

"Hey!"

"Bed-time Gordon."

"Who says?"

"Your father."

Gordon scowled, and then before she could react, he was off, tearing down the corridor.

"Come back here you little-"

"Little what?"

Whipping around and pasting a fake smile onto her face, she saw Virgil standing in the doorway.

"Nothing. It's his bed time. Can you go find him?" The smile slipped off her face as her response turned into a desperate plea.

Unfortunately, Virgil didn't come through.

"Nope gotta practice," he said, and then he was off running down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Alysha took a deep breath in through her nose. She needed to calm down. There was no reason to get the boys angry at her.

She picked up Alan, whose eyelids were now drooping, and made for the stairs. She'd get Alan settled and then come back for Gordon. She hadn't seen John or Scott yet though, and that worried her. She was beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that the 'malfunctioning sprinklers' weren't actually sprinklers.

As she climbed the stairs she looked at the toddler in her arms. He was almost sound asleep now. Maybe he wasn't so bad. He just had a habit for getting into trouble and had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She gently pushed the door to his room open. He was settled into his bed quick enough, and was asleep even quicker. Five minutes later she had checked the night light, and was closing the the door to the room. Now she just had to hunt down the toad-loving auburn and things would be relatively quiet for the rest of the evening.

Virgil had once again reclaimed his piano, the lilting melodies drifting up the stairs. Deciding to risk asking for Scott's help she knocked on the door to the room that she had figured he and John shared.

"Scott? I would really appreciate your help putting your younger brother to bed."

"_You're interrupting my meditation!" _came the muffled voice from inside the room. Raising an eyebrow she tried the door handle. Unsurprisingly it was locked. Huffing she began to make her way back downstairs, mapping out a plan of action in her head.

"Meditating. Yeah right. If there is one kid less likely to meditate-"

"Alysha?" a voice asked. She turned around to see a pair of wide blue eyes staring at her from a crack in the door opposite the room she had just tried.

"Yes John?"

"Can...Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked hesitantly.

"Um, sure I guess. I can't talk long, I need to get Gordon to bed."

"Yeah," he said quietly and then retreated backwards from the door. Somewhat bemused she climbed back up the few stairs she had descended and followed him in. She heard the door close behind her and turned to see John standing there, looking distinctly nervous, twisting his hands together.

"John is something wrong?" she asked gently. They were back on her home turf. Comfort she could deal with.

"I...yes...I mean no...I mean..." and then suddenly he broke down into tears. Alysha did a double take, and then looked around the room as if expecting someone else to be there so as to explain what exactly was going on. Maybe this wasn't entirely her home turf...

But before she could even try to work out what was going on she found her arms full of collapsed, sobbing blonde.

"It's the pressure...,"he hiccuped.

"Um... what pressure?" She asked, patting him awkwardly on the back. In response he merely wailed and continued to sob into her shirt.

"You have no..._hic_... idea..._hic_...what it's like..._hic,_" he sobbed.

"Ah..." She didn't get a word in edgewise before he started wailing again. Over the next few minutes she was bombarded with many a 'cruel expectations', several 'you don't understands', and more than one 'I can't stand it'.

Eventually he seemed to calm down enough that she felt it was safe to leave him. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, unsure. She didn't want to accidentally restart the waterworks.

"I..._hic_... guess. Thanks for..._hic_... listening," he sniffled. She gave him a twitchy smile, and then ran from the room.

OoO

As soon as she was out of the room John ran for the computer. Turning the screen back on he typed into the messaging system:

_From Apollo1110:Did it work?_

The only reply he got was an animated smiley that was rolling around laughing.

_From Apollo1110: Come on Scott tell me. Did the web-cam work or not? _

It took a few seconds but eventually he got a response.

_From F24Raptor: Like a dream. Johnny, my friend, you deserve an Oscar for that._

Smiling in satisfaction John typed back,

_From Apollo1110: Do you think we gave Gordon enough time?_

_From F24Raptor: More than enough._

_From Apollo1110: Dad'll kill us if he finds out._

_From F24Raptor: He's not going to. Just stay in your room, and I'll stay in mine, and it'll be all up to Alysha to sort Gordo out. _

_From Apollo1110: F.A.B_

He really hoped Scott was right about their Dad. If he found out that they had moved the cookies from the top shelf of the pantry to the bottom....

Well Gordon wouldn't be the only one heading for the hills.

* * *

_**So two weeks time. Until then R&R please! **_


	6. Blue Peter Tracy Style

_**A/N: And I'm back. Camp went fine- despite the fact the girls were only ages 9 to 11 they actually slept 6 and a 1/2 hours. For any of you that have ever done camp counseling of any sort I'm sure you know that that's actually pretty good. ****Now there is some good news and some bad news. I will probably not be able to post next Sunday because I'm in Seattle for the weekend, again without my handy, dandy laptop. But the good news is it might not matter because this story is finished! Yup I got it all churned out last night. Keep in mind it still needs to be looked over by your truly another few times, then by the lovely Beta, and then by me again but it is done. So we may be looking at a chapter before Sunday instead! :) In the meantime please enjoy my latest offering...**_

_**

* * *

****Sitter Suggestion #67: Sugar is a baby-sitters arch enemy. If not expressly permitted by the parents keep children away from it at all costs. **_

"Gordon, it's time for bed. You need to start getting ready now!" Alysha called into the living room for the second time. This was a lot harder when she wasn't able to shout. She didn't want to wake Alan up but Gordon was being an absolute pain in the-. Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she heard a loud crash from down the hallway. Immediately she sprinted off in the direction of the sound. She arrived at the scene to find the door to the storage room open and several of the supplies littering the floor. In her book, this sort of thing generally led to...

"Wheeeeeeee!"

She ran back down in the direction she had just come from, only to have to jump backwards when something came hurtling down the stairs.

"Gordon!"she yelled, forgetting about not wanting to wake Alan up. She chased after the bright blue sled that was currently charging the door at ramming speed. "Gordon, _stop!_" But it was too late. The sled made contact with the door with a resounding crash. Defying the laws of physics it attempted to slide up the door before twisting and falling flat onto the ground .

"Gordon! Are you alright?" Oh please no. If the little fire cracker was hurt Scott would probably find ample opportunity to blame her for the accident. Then she'd be in trouble and she wouldn't get paid, and families wouldn't be as likely to hire her and...

The sled was thrown to the side revealing a grinning and unhurt child.

"I wanna do that again!"

Gaping Alysha took a few seconds to process the information. "Absolutely not! That is something you shouldn't have done in the first place! You are in big trouble young man. I'll be telling you grandmother about this. Now **bed**."

"I'm not tired!"

"Too bad. Bed!"

She lunged for the kid as he stood up and tried to make a run for it. She barely managed to grab him around the waist. He began to scream.

"Oh for heaven's sakes! Will you- OW!" She promptly dropped the kid who ran off cackling manically.

"What's going on?" she heard Virgil ask from somewhere behind her. She whipped round, well aware of the fact that her appearance was deteriorating rather steadily. She probably looked a little on the side of crazed. Little being an understatement.

"He bit me!"

"Did you grab him?"

"Well...yes. But what else was I supposed to do? He was sledding down the stairs!" she practically sobbed.

To her utmost ire Virgil merely looked interested. "Really? I thought it would have flipped."

"It did!" she bawled. Virgil raised an eyebrow- she was starting to think this whole 'eyebrow' thing was genetic- and began to back into the lounge.

"Alright. I'm just...going," he said quickly and then ran into the room.

Alysha let a deep breath out through her nose, and had it been physically possible it is more than likely that smoke would have billowed forth from her nostrils. Unfortunately all she managed to do was blow a wet strand of hair up to stick to her forehead. She began to stomp up the stairs, making for Scott's bedroom. Reaching the threshold she simply yelled, "SCOTT! I want you out here helping right now! _Someone_, and don't think I don't know who, let Gordon into the sugar and he's on the rampage. So get you scrawny little butt out here this instant or your father is finding out about this!"

"OMMMMM!" was yelled back at her. She let out a scream of frustration. This was _so_ not how she had envisioned spending her evening. But there was not time to mourn the could-have-beens because the next instant she heard the telltale cry of "_Wheee!"_ coming from downstairs. She dashed down the stairs onto the main landing. Gordon was sliding down the hallway on his stomach, defying the laws of physics once again. There was no friction at all from what she was seeing. She watched, mouth as open as a guppy fish's, as he went spinning down the corridor and was catapulted out the backdoor into the garden.

Deciding to try subtlety-maybe she could sneak up on him and catch him unawares-she slowly took her first step onto the floor of the hallway. With no warning, feet and head inverted and her brain became rather more acquainted with the floor than she would have liked. Clutching the back of her head she sat up and looked at the floor. Only now did she notice it had a distinct sheen to it. Muttering curses to herself she attempted to stand up only to end up rear-to-the-floor once again. Having learned her lesson out in the garden she didn't bother making a third attempt. Instead she scrabbled, slid, and generally skidded and slipped her way down the hallway.

OoO

"What do you think she's doing?"

"Haven't the foggiest," John replied. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to bet it's probably because of Gordon."

"We don't show the kid our appreciation him enough," Scott said watching as Alysha did a bizarre sort of three-sixty.

OoO

She was almost at the end of the hallway when something akin to a bang echoed throughout the house. It soon became evident, that the explosion was actually a CD that had 'accidentally' been turned on at the highest possible volume. Alysha never had the chance to come to this conclusion though as she had just precariously gotten to her feet in an effort to exit into the garden as efficiently as possible. The sudden blast of noise startled her and sent her toppling out the door and hear first into the grass in a manner that was anything but efficient.

Pulling her face from the mud that had congealed since earlier this evening she blew another deep, frustrated breath from her nose, expelling the muck that had embedded itself there. She looked around in search of the auburn hoodlum, well aware he had had plenty of time to make good his escape. She then made the mistake of looking up.

She screamed.

"GORDON! GET DOWN FROM THERE!" she shrieked.

Gordon was repelling down the wall of the house, using what looked like a combination of a skipping rope, and plastic cord.

"Oh my GOD!" she screamed as he slid down a little. Scott poked his head out of the window above.

"Don't let go Gordo!"

"SCOTT TRACY! If you have anything to do with this you are a dead man!"

"Love you too honey!" he grinned before disappearing back inside.

"SCOTT!" she bawled but he didn't return. She ran underneath the rapidly descending child and watched, terrified, as Gordon began to near the ground. Despite the uncanny urge to run around in a circle holding her arms out so as to catch him if she fell, she stayed put.

As he finally reached the height at which it would be safe to fall, Alysha tried to coax him to let go. Whereas before she had stayed silent, much as someone who was watching a person standing on the edge of a very high building might be silent, she now began talking to him.

"Gordon? Can you hurry it up please?" So maybe she wasn't being exactly diplomatic but her nerves were so utterly and completely frazzled that the connection between her mouth and her brain was probably short-circuiting.

All of a sudden the would-be mountaineer let go of the 'rope' and dropped into her arms. She toppled over as the unexpected weight upset her balance. She then noticed what she had failed to notice before. A rope was tied around his waist as well. She looked up at the window just in time to see Scott appear once again. He waved the end of the rope that was connected to Gordon at her and dropped it out the window. The length coiled on the ground and Alysha stared at it.

The whole time she had been having kittens about Gordon falling, he had been helped down the wall by his brother. Checking the knot, she observed it was well done, secure and tight, but for heaven's sake! He could have died!

"SCOTT!!!"

OoO

Above, in the very room Gordon had been descending from, Scott lent against the wall, making sure he couldn't be seen from the ground.

"Who knew dad's junk could ever be this useful?" John said as he crouched beneath the window frame, dismantling the pulley system they had rigged up.

"Well at least now we know you can repel down a wall using skipping rope, packing cord, a pulley, and a chair."

OoO

Alysha shut the door to Gordon's room. Briefly she leaned back against it, inhaling deeply and shutting her eyes, trying to retain some semblance of sanity. She was covered in mud, she was sticky to boot from whatever Gordon had poured on the floor, which still had to be cleaned up, she had pizza sauce cemented under her nails, and her hair was orange and had bits of pepperoni stuck in it.

She was fairly certain Gordon wasn't going anywhere. The sugar high had worn off, she was sure now that was what it was, and the kid had positively crashed. That didn't stop her from wanting to lodge a chair beneath the door knob though. Opening her eyes she took a deep breath. Virgil was to be sent to bed in just under half an hour. That left Scott and John. The night was almost over. Just one more hour and she would never have to see these kids again.

Deciding to check on Alan, giving the racket that had been going on she crossed the hallway to the door almost directly opposite. Gently turning the handle she peered into the dimly lit room. The cot was empty. Shoving the door open all the way, she frantically searched the room for the toddler, and she was so going to lock the little twerp in here after she found him. She did not have time for this right now! Couldn't he stay in one place for any length of time? Angel babycakes _indeed_. No angel spontaneously disappeared.

Realizing he wasn't in the room she emerged into the hallway once again. And stopped in her tracks.

Standing in front of her staring her down with wide yellow eyes was a black ball of fluff, that at one point in it's miserable little life had probably been a cat. Alysha tried to back away but the cat just followed her, mewling the entire time. It looked as if it had part of a banana peel stuck to it's head. Her back hit the wall and the ball of fluff continued to advance. It stopped in front of her and just stared.

She screamed.

* * *

**_To my fellow Canadians- Happy Thanksgiving! To everyone else- Review please! :)_**


	7. Meet Juan

_**A/N: Well that didn't quite go how I expected it. But it's here now so let's all rejoice! Because my life is the very definition of busy I am away (again) for four days this weekend. However I will be back on Sunday so this may mean I am able to post late on Sunday. Heres to hoping. Mostly right now I'm just happy I fit four days worth of stuff AND the sleeping bag into a 30L backpack. Read and review!**_

_**

* * *

**_**Sitter Suggestion #69: Don't let your charges keep pets. They are unsanitary and the parents will be less than pleased when they arrive home. **

The cat screamed right back. Or it at least made the sound equivalent to a scream in cat-speak. It then bolted back up the corridor as fast as it could.

"Juan! There you are!" somebody exclaimed from the end of the hallway. Looking up, she saw John emerging from the laundry room. He caught the hairball up and started talking to it.

"Didn't I tell you not to run off? See what you've done?"

"What the hell is that thing doing in here!?" Alysha shrieked pointing an accusing finger at the disheveled cat.

"I brought him home. I was out for a walk and he looked lonely so I brought him inside."

"When the heck were you out for a walk?"

"Just now."

"H- No. You know what? I don't care anymore. I don't care!" She said, somewhat hysterically. "I want that exploded ball of fur out of here in the next sixty seconds or I swear I will kick it down the street back to the sewer that spawned it! Out!"

"Fine," John scowled. "But he responds better if you call him Juan."

"I am not calling _it_ anything, least of all Juan," she fumed. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to go find the demon child."

"Gordon?" John asked curiously.

Feeling her eye twitch Alysha turned on her heel and downright stalked towards the stairs. "No. Alan."

OoO

Ten minutes later and she had cycled through fury, panic, and something akin to suicidal. Currently she was experiencing full on psychosis. She was laughing hysterically and humming along to Virgil's piano playing, or at least the CD that had been turned on almost half an hour ago- whichever one was louder. In a last ditch attempt before she called the grandmother to tell her she had lost the evil hellion that was Mrs. Tracy's youngest grandchild, she went back to his room.

Everything was as it should have been, with one vital thing missing. She checked everywhere and anywhere, whether it was plausible or not. Finally she fell onto the floor and stared at the ceiling as if expecting the little gremlin to be crawling there. When she found that he wasn't, she flopped forwards onto her stomach and proceeded to throw a tantrum.

Then something laughed. Her eyes snapped open and she briefly stopped banging her fists on the floor and kicking her feet. Staring under the bed she caught sight of two glowing orbs. Getting onto her hands and knees she began to crawl towards the bed, hoping to God it wasn't that bloody cat. When she reached the bed she laid her head sideways, so that one ear was pressing against the floor, and peered under the bed. The demon spawn reached out and pulled her hair. Her arm shot forwards and she dragged him from underneath the bed by his legs. He laughed and squealed, as she picked him up and dumped him back on the bed. She stared at him emptily. He simply smiled.

Whereas before she had thought that smile was the mark of an angel, now it looked as though he was simply displaying his fangs. In her mind's eye, his pupils turned red.

Before his head could begin to rotate on his neck, she left the room. This time she did block the handle with a chair.

Looking at her watch she realized it was 7:50. Ten minutes and then Virgil would be in bed. After that she would only have to deal with the emotional wreck who adopted stray cats, and the supposedly responsible child who seemed to be out to get her. Deciding to let Virgil know that he had ten minutes, so he wouldn't throw a tantrum, she followed the sounds of the disconnected piano and CD.

Arriving in the lounge, she saw Virgil still seated at the piano. John and Scott were nowhere to be seen, and she really couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

"Virgil?" she called.

He didn't answer.

"Virgil!"

Still no reply. Deciding she had had enough- she had exhibited a saint's patience with these boys, and that well had just about dried up -she strode over to the stereo system and hit the power button.

The child reacted much the same way his younger brother had. "Hey!"

"You weren't listening," she said shortly. "Bed time is in ten minutes."

Virgil scowled. "Fine, but I need to paint first. It helps me relax."

"Whatever. But you are in bed in ten minutes, understand?"

"Sure. But can you stay here?"

Unsure of how she should react, she turned her head slightly sideways, eying him suspiciously.

"Why?"

"I work quicker if I have something to paint. Portraits are easiest for me." He had stopped frowning and was looking plaintively at her.

Sighing in resignation, she nodded. "Fine," she agreed tiredly. Virgil dashed off, presumably in the direction of his room, to get his supplies.

She pulled up a chair and rubbed a hand across her face. She was tired, frustrated, and could really use a shower. She had been bombarded by food, soaked by 'sprinklers', threatened with a toad, been given a brief glimpse into the life of a psychiatrist; and that stuff on the floor of the main landing still had to be cleaned up. The list just went on and on. Tonight was hardly the night that was going to rocket her into baby-sitter history. Tonight was one of the worst nights of her life.

She had always loved children. But right now? She was seriously considering quitting.

However having her portrait painted in the state she was in was hardly going to be the most horrible part of the evening.

Virgil returned and set up his equipment with the skill of someone who knew what they were doing. Soon enough the paintbrush was out and the process had begun.

Half an hour later and after several interruptions from Alysha, the portrait still was not done. It was twenty minutes after Virgil's bed time and she considered him relaxed enough to sleep. Doing nothing for thirty minutes had brought a few of her senses back though, and she tried to approach the issue diplomatically.

"Virgil? May I see what you've painted so far?"

Her efforts went unrewarded in a spectacular fashion.

"Don't you know it's rude to ask an artist if you can see their work before it's finished? No! But you know what? I don't care! You can see it!"

He stormed out of the room.

For a few moments she just sat there, bemused and not entirely sure what had just happened. But her curiosity got the better of her and she stood and circled round the easel, wanting to see if he was as good an artist as he was a pianist.

He was.

But what she saw wasn't what she had been expecting. Instead of something even vaguely resembling a human there was a large black blob of what was definitely fur, with a hint of yellow at the top of its head. At the bottom of the 'portrait' was a word written in a scrawling hand-writing.

_Juan_

OoO

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"What? It's not like he's going to get hurt."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Do you think we need to add soap?"

OoO

Alysha carefully navigated her way down the slippery hallway and wondered how Virgil had managed to do so, so quickly. He was nowhere in sight.

When she arrived at the stairs she trudged up them, hoping Virgil was in his room. She just needed to check. If he was, she was more than happy to just leave him there.

As she reached the top of the flight she quickly checked the doors lining the hallway. All were closed, except the one at the end of the hallway that lead to the laundry room. The chair was still in place outside of the horrible hobgoblin's room.

Only one thing was out of place. At the end of the hallway stood Juan.

It was not nearly as fluffy as it had been the last time she had seen it. In fact it was rather bedraggled and was dripping water. The banana peel was also gone. The thing began to stumble towards her, weaving its way across the hall, and bumping into the walls more often than not. Alsyha backed against the wall once again. Juan staggered up to her, and its yellow eyes seemed slightly crossed. It opened its mouth and for one horrible moment she thought it was going to bite her.

Instead it did something much, much worse.

It threw up.

* * *

_**So sorry once again for the lateness! Review anyways???**_


	8. The Answer to Life

_**A/n: Yay! I actually kept to my time line! It's Sunday- or at least it is in some parts of the world- and here's the next chapter. I love you guys too much. This weekend went fine, and it was actually pretty fun. Did some work with ECOS planting trees, and saw A Streetcar Named Desire. The play was kinda of sketchy, but it was good. Also had enough spare time to catch a visit to the museum of flight. They had a whole dedicated space flight center. Put it this way: I took 70 pictures on the trip; 63 three of them were at the flight museum; 60 of those 63 were of the space flight center. *drools*.**_

_**And thanks to EVERYONE who's been reviewing. I know I started this by replying to each and every one of you, and now I'm barely replying to anyone. This doesn't mean I appreciate them less or that I'm not reading them. Quite the opposite! I just don't have the time to express anything more verbal than 'Thanks', which is what I'm doing now. I really, really appreciate all the positive comments I've been receiving. So here's the next (and second last!) chapter. **_

_**Oh, and no cats were harmed in the making of this story.**_

* * *

**Sitter Suggestion #84: Make sure the house is in the same state that you arrived to!**

Alysha sat in a chair in the kitchen, staring at the wall. She was shaking slightly and every so often the muscle beneath her right eye would twitch violently. She jumped at the slightest sound and her hands were twisting around each other, forming invisible pictures in the air; some of which might have been interpreted as strangling motions.

She was only here for another forty minutes. Forty long minutes, and then she would be free and she'd never have to see the Tracys again. Just forty. _Forty. _

She still smelled like cat sick.

After the cat had thrown up on her, she surprisingly had not screamed. At that particular point in time she hadn't had any real desire to open her mouth. John and Scott had come running down the hallway but not in time to stop Alysha dropping the cat out of the second story window.

Turns out cats have a harder time landing on their feet after they've been put through the spin cycle.

She had given the two boys a glare promising vengeance, and had tramped down the hallway, deftly avoiding the pool of cat sick, towards the laundry room. She had found the stain remover, a plastic basin and a wash cloth, and had gone to work removing the evidence that Juan had ever been in the house.

And now she was back in the kitchen, homework laid out over the table, trying to convince herself that it was possible to do _something_, without anything going wrong. It was a hard task considering she smelt of raw fish and pepperoni, had a coating of what she had figured out to be olive oil (which she had cleaned up right after the cat sick), and had bits of pasta cemented to her scalp.

Slowly she picked up the pencil, the thin piece of wood trembling violently in her hand.

First problem.

_If f(x)= 7x +2, solve for f(3)_

"What are you doing?"

She jumped, the pencil squiggling a messy line all over the work she had barely started. John stood directly behind her, peering over her shoulder.

Taking several calming breaths, she replied, "Math. Go to bed."

He frowned. "I don't have to go to bed for another ten minutes."

"Well, go get ready for bed."

"It won't make a difference. My body's internal clock is set for-"

Alysha interrupted him before he could really get into his stride. "Just... be quiet."

He nodded and proceeded to just stand there. Deciding that something was better than nothing she turned back to her homework. She flipped the pencil around and erased the mess her pencil had created, then started to re-write the equation.

_If f(x) =_

"Twenty-three."

She jumped again. "What?"

"Twenty-three. The answer is twenty-three."

"How did you-"

"It's simple. You just substitute the three for the _x_."

"I thought you were in grade 5?"

"I am."

Alysha stared, completely and utterly bemused. So not only was this child a premature bibliophile, but he was a mathematical genius as well. And yet somehow she couldn't find it within herself to care.

"Forty-two."

Was that the answer to life or something? "What?"

"Forty-two. The answer to the next question is forty-two."

"I haven't even...," she whispered to herself, sounding only the slightest bit despondent. She frowned at the next question, determined to get it before the ten-year-old.

"Negative three."

Or not.

"Okay, if you're so smart what's the answer to the challenge question?" she bit out, growing more and more irritated, both at John and at herself. This was getting ridiculous. He was silent for a moment, and for one brief second she felt a malevolent pleasure that she had bested him.

"_x_+2."

Alysha let out a sound that was an odd hybrid between laughter, and a howl of misery. Abruptly she cut it off with a gasping breath, before pointing to the door and saying in a shaky voice, "Bed."

Funnily enough, he didn't argue this time.

She took a few more labored breaths, her jaw trembling the entire time. Then she set about shoving her homework away; she was definitely not going to go anywhere with it tonight. Staring at the wall sounded just fine to her. The pencil was shoved violently into the pencil case, the tip breaking off, and the math book was slammed shut, the piece of paper with virtually nothing on it still inside. She stood up and stuck her head outside the door frame, checking the hallway for possible dangers.

Slowly she made her way down the hallway jumping at every creak the floorboards made. She found her duffel in the sitting room, and shoved her math book and pencil case into it. Of course, by now she had also discovered that the scrabble board she had assumed the boys had put away for her had not actually been put away. She hadn't even bothered looking for it.

For a moment there was silence. Four were in bed, and she couldn't care less what the other one was doing...

CRASH!

Alysha didn't even bother holding in the sob that was wrenched from her throat. She took a few seconds to attempt to pull herself together. When it didn't work she ran down the hallway towards the lounge anyway.

Upon arrival, her feet were taken out from under for the hundredth time that evening. She pulled her head from the floor, with the resigned feeling that she knew exactly what she had slipped in. Pulling a few strands of her hair in front of her face, her suspicions were confirmed. They were blue.

Turning around in the puddle, she observed a wash of many colors on the floor. There was a hypnotic swirl of orange, red, blue, black, yellow, and green spread across the wood. She twisted her neck to try and see her back. From what she could see of it, it had the same pattern as the floor imprinted upon on it.

"I thought you were trained to take care of children, not make messes?" she heard Scott say from behind her.

She raised her head, her neck still at the same awkward angle she had been using to try and see her back. She barely noticed her bottom lip trembling.

Scott raised his eyebrows before shrugging and saying, "Alan's gone. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks," she whispered dazedly, before clambering to her feet and stumbling out the door.

She was once again lost for words. The chair had been removed, by one of the older siblings no doubt, and the foul fiend was yet again nowhere to be found. She was now going through every single cupboard and drawer in the kitchen.

Cutlery.

Cups.

Plates.

Place-mats.

"BOO!" a shrill little voice cried.

She jumped a mile high, probably flinging paint onto the ceiling.

"Found him?"

She whirled to face Scott, pointing at the repulsive rascal residing in the cupboard, "Nobody told me he could talk!"

"He's two. Why wouldn't he be able to?"

"Because...." She floundered for an answer.

"You just assumed didn't you?"

"Well…"

"You did. Don't even _try_ to deny it. You didn't think he could talk. You just thought he was a sweet little angel, or whatever other disgusting synonym you wanted to call him, who would just sit there nice and quiet and not cause you any trouble. Well, guess what? You've just been introduced to the terrible twos. The bane of every parent's life."

Alysha felt her jaw drop. This kid was really stepping over the line. Yet at the same time, he was seriously scaring her.

"And even better?" he continued. "We're only just getting started. You've still got thirty minutes to go before grandma gets here. And let me tell you, every single one of us is sick of you. You're condescending, you're ignorant, you're irresponsible, you can't take a hint, you're clumsy, you're insulting, and above all, you are an idiot. So you'd better watch your back. 'Cause anything can happen in the next half hour."

Scott stepped forward and picked Alan up out of the cupboard. He strode from the room without a backwards glance.

Alysha gulped.

* * *

_**I'm sorry! I couldn't help the Stingray reference! It was just too tempting. Well Scott's finally had his say. Make sure you give me yours! **_


	9. Return of the Cat

_**A/n: And so the tale comes to an end- quite literally because my laptop has about 20 minutes of power left. Long story short my power bar has ended up 20 miles away from me. Anywho, thanks to everyone who has reviewed throughout. I really appreciate all the positive comments I've received, and the occasional constructive criticism. Special thanks goes to Tikatu for pointing out something I hadn't previously observed in the story. Thanks to her observations this chapter has been suitably revamped. :)**_

_**And I can't possibly give enough thanks to spinkle22, who devoted an allotment of her own personal time to making this a heck of a lot better than it was when I started. Thank you so much!  
**_

_**I'll be around in the near future, but I'm unsure when the next actual story will be posted. Maybe in a month? Regardless, thanks again to everyone! We are now at 4% power and counting so lets get on with the show...  
**_

_

* * *

_**Sitter Suggestion #91: Be prepared for anything. You never know if a power outage or earthquake could occur. **

She sat in the pantry clutching her legs, and glancing at her watch every few seconds. Scott had downright terrified her and she had no intention of leaving her haven unless the house caught fire or something exploded. She also had no doubt that this would be the case. In the meantime she wasn't letting those boys come anywhere near her. She'd shoved a broom underneath the handle of the door and was shivering against the far wall of the small room.

Tonight had been the worst night of her life. She ran through each individual scenario in her head from the disastrous game of scrabble and the first disappearance of the unholy imp, to the most recent slip up in the lounge and the revelation that the horrid creature could, in fact, speak. Of all the words he could have chosen...

The explosion that she had been dreading suddenly came. The house didn't exactly shake on its foundations, but there was an extremely loud noise from the room directly above her. For a long moment she seriously considered ignoring it and just staying in her warm, dry, safe room. But on the other hand if something happened to the kids the grandmother would probably come after her with an ax... and where on earth had that image come from?

Carefully, she moved the broom to one side, flinching as she did so, and reached for the handle.

"On three," she muttered to herself.

_One, two, three! _She didn't open the door. Taking a deep, supposedly calming breath, she tried again.

_One, two three..._ Again she failed. Conjuring the image of a crazy old lady with an ax once again in her mind for an incentive, she started counting.

_One, two, three! _She tugged the handle down, and yanked the door open. The kitchen beyond was silent. Cautiously she crept through the room, and then edged along the wall until she was beside the door frame. Slowly she poked her head around the side, and glanced up and down the corridor. It too was empty.

It was a mark of just how far her sanity had degraded that she went towards the lounge rather than the stairs. In her mind, she assured herself that she was making sure she wasn't crept up on from behind. Slowly she leaned around the frame, peering into the room. It was pristine; in every way. There was no paint upon the floor, no toppled easel, no canvas rendition of _that_ cat. It was as if the entire paint incident had never happened. And yet the paint on her back, and in her hair, said otherwise.

She giggled, and then abruptly stopped. She was imagining things, that was all. There was still paint everywhere; it was just her paranoid mind trying to protect her. From upstairs another small explosion boomed forth. This time it was followed by the distinct screaming of a two year old.

OoO

"Kitchen?"

"Clear."

"Lounge?"

"Clear."

"Hallway?"

"Clear."

"Garden."

"Clear?"

"Why was that a question?"

"I couldn't untie the knot on the tap. But everything else is away."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll take care of that. But, other than the knot, the house is all clear for Grandma?"

Three heads nodded back at him. He glanced at John. "Time check?"

John looked down at his wrist. "Fifteen minutes and counting. And you owe me a new chemistry set for Christmas."

"Right. Everyone ready for operation blackout?"

"Ready!"

OoO

Alysha was only a few steps from the stairs when the lights went out. She screamed and began looking around for anyone or anything that could attack her. The hallway was pitch black, save for a faint glow coming from the sitting room, where the curtains were still open. She really, _really_, wished she had stayed in the pantry. She felt something brush against her arm, and heard footsteps running up the stairs. At first she wanted to follow, but then thought better of it. Instead, she headed towards the only source of light she could see.

The sitting room was eerily lit, the dull glow from the moon and the street lamps casting a pale light over everything. Shadows seemed bigger now, looming, and ready to claw her into their gaping maws. She ran for the corner and huddled there, her eyes glued to the doorway. She didn't know what she'd do if anything came through but she'd be ready for it. The floor squeaked above her and she gave a tiny whimper. This was _definitely _the worst night of her life.

"_Alysha_," a voice whispered from somewhere near her. She shrieked and jumped to her feet, glancing every which way, desperately searching the shadows for the source of the voice.

There was nothing.

"_Alysha_," came a different voice, from the other side of the room. She heard the front door open.

"M-M-Mrs. T-T-Tracy?" she stuttered. "I-i-i-is that y-you?"

The door shut, and nothing answered.

Something furry brushed against her legs. She screamed again and lashed a foot out, hoping to kick the thing away. Whatever it was, she missed it.

For a few more minutes she pressed herself into the wall, trembling and scanning the floor for furry somethings.

Eventually, it occurred to her that she should check on the boys. Shaking violently she stood up and stepped away from the wall. She moved quietly through the room, eyes flitting over the shadows, and emerged into the hallway. Carefully, she felt for the handrail, and slowly she made her way up the stairs. There was nothing at the top of the hallway, except for the nightlight at the very far end; it didn't seem to be plugged in correctly because it was flickering erratically.

"Boys?" she whispered, and took another few steps down the hallway. "Boys?"

No one answered her.

She arrived at the first door, and slowly opened it. The room was streaked with light that was being broken up by the blinds. No one seemed to be there. Moving onto the next room, she again found nothing but empty beds and scattered toys. She approached the third and last door, or at least the last one that led to the boys' bedrooms, and slowly opened it. To her dismay this room too was empty. Just to make sure, she took a few steps in.

"BOO!" a little voice cried.

She screamed as the lights snapped on.

OoO

Grandma Tracy drove along Meadowlark Drive, at exactly the road speed limit, no more and no less. It was 8:59, and she was going to arrive at her son's house at exactly nine o'clock. She wasn't worried at all. The boys had been babysat before, although admittedly only a few times. Normally she was the one doing the babysitting.

But Jefferson had assured he had hired the best babysitter he could find. All her previous clients swore by her, and she had a list of credentials as long as her arm. He had gone as far as to do a background check on her. Nothing had turned up, and she had been called in for the job. But Mrs. Tracy couldn't help the feeling that five boys was an awful lot for one girl. Particularly with Scott being in such an awful mood lately. He was fine around her, of course- she wouldn't allow anything else- but she had heard from her son that as soon as she left, her eldest grandson would often sink into the most foul of moods.

But it was only for four hours. And she was confident that Scott had the common sense and good grace to be more of a help than a hindrance.

As the moderately large house loomed at the curve of the cul de sac, she saw that the lights in all of the bedrooms were out, and the first floor was brightly lit. She pulled the little blue Honda into the drive, and deciding to leave her bags in the car for now, opened the door. She strode up the path and favored knocking on the door, not wanting to wake the boys with the doorbell.

OoO

Alysha sat on the stairs, staring at the door. It was 8:59. Any minute now the boys' Grandmother would be here and this horrible night would be over. She would be free. Free!

A knock on the door.

She lunged for it and practically threw it open. A woman stood there, her hand still raised from knocking on the door. She didn't look particularly old but at this particular moment Alysha really couldn't care less. She grabbed her duffel bag from the floor and squeezed past the woman onto the front step. Grandma Tracy, presumably that was who she was, obligingly moved into the house.

"My... are you Alysha?"

OoO

What a state the girl was in! She was covered in paint and mud and seemed to have bits of pepperoni stuck in her hair. The hair itself was held in a gravity defying position by something orange and she smelt oddly of cat and... was that sick?

"My dear, are you all right? Are the boys-"

"Oh yes. Fine, fine. All fine. Asleep, actually. Them, not me. Not Scott. Don't know about Scott," the girl rambled.

"Did they behave?" Grandma asked sternly.

The babysitter gave a twitchy smile. "Behave? Oh yes, yes! Behaved all right. Angels. Oh god, scary little demon angel."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing! Nothing. Lovely meeting you. Must go now. Have a nice visit-stay-thing!" Alysha said, backing down the path towards the street. Grandma was about to call her back to ask just what had happened when something fell from the sky, and landed on the girl's head. In the brief glimpse she had of it, she saw something black and gangly, and it_ appeared_ to be a cat. But then the babysitter was running, screaming down the path, and was off up the road, cat still attached to her head.

"Grandma!" she heard her eldest cry. She turned to see him bounding down the stairs. He ran up to her and hugged her. She hugged him back, before turning and watching the screaming girl sprint to the end of the road. The cat was still swaying on her head when she rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Her voice trailed behind for a few seconds before that too disappeared into the evening.

"What a strange girl," Grandma said, her eyebrows raised.

"You have no idea, Grandma. You have no idea." There was an odd look of complete and utter innocence sparkling in his eyes. She had a sneaking suspicion that she was missing out on a rather large part of the story.

The next morning when she found a hairball the size of her head blocking the lint collector in the washing machine her suspicions were confirmed.

"BOYS!"

**Sitter Suggestion #100: Never baby-sit the Tracys. **


End file.
